The New Employee Handbook
Do-yun studied the directory map fixed to the wall.
Countless zones tangled together in a labyrinthine sprawl, yet one name leapt out at once.
Research and Development Wing.
Whatever secrets the Sentinels held, he was certain he would find them here.
Without a second’s hesitation he strode toward the door that led into the Research and Development Wing.
Area C-3
Security Clearance Level 1 or higher required
Unauthorized entry will immediately initiate the ‘Purification Protocol.’
A vicious warning was etched across the face of the heavy iron door.
Do-yun had no idea what “purification” actually meant, but the wording left little room for optimism.
“Couldn’t they just write ‘Authorized Personnel Only’ or something?” Ciel muttered, shrinking into herself.
“It means whatever’s behind that door is important,” Do-yun replied, glancing at the access panel mounted on the wall.
A terminal sat there, but unlike the one that had granted them entry to the Company itself, he had no idea how to unlock this particular mechanism.
This door was never supposed to be locked in the first place.
He recalled the descriptions the returnees had given of the Company.
— “Nothing worked. Not a single device.”
— “It felt like walking into a building that had been abandoned for years.”
— “Aside from the armory there wasn’t anything worth taking.”
The Company those returnees had described looked nothing like the place standing before him now. Back then the Sentinels and every other security system had simply not existed; once you got inside you could explore without the slightest interference. The Research and Development Wing would have been the same—an unlocked door that no one had ever needed to force open.
Those robots fixed it, didn’t they?
The time gap between the Tower of Trials and the Tower of Ascension had produced this discrepancy.
The realization startled him for a moment, but he quickly understood it changed nothing.
With the softest push the thick iron door swung open on silent hinges. Ruin had already reduced the locking mechanism to useless scrap.
“Wait!”
Just as he was about to step through, Ciel shot in front of his face, wings buzzing with determination.
Do-yun looked at her in mild surprise. She met his gaze with the expression of someone who had made a solemn vow.
“Doyun-nim, you stay right here! I’ll go check if it’s dangerous first.”
Overflow had destroyed every mana-bearing entity, yet that did not mean every threat had vanished. Mechanical traps or sensors could still be waiting. Ciel clearly intended to scout them out ahead of him.
“I can’t help in a fight, so I have to be useful somehow!”
“It’s fine. Everything you’ve done so far has already been more than enough.”
“Even so!”
She refused to budge. Do-yun scratched his cheek, resigned.
It really is fine, though.
He had never expected combat support from Ciel. A spirit who could neither influence nor be influenced by others was essentially a ghost; what could she realistically accomplish? Yet the fact that she could not help seemed to weigh on her constantly.
“All right. I’m counting on you.”
Her earnest desire to contribute was too genuine to refuse. He nodded.
“I’ll be right back!”
The moment permission left his lips she zipped away down the corridor. While she was gone Do-yun checked the time.
“The other challengers should be starting to arrive soon.”
The head-start granted by the early-entry ticket was nearly exhausted. If he lingered much longer he would risk running into them—especially now that Overflow had crippled every defensive system in the Company, effectively clearing the path for everyone who followed.
Still, I have enough time to examine this place.
Anyone else would need time simply to reach this wing from the starting point. A quick, thorough search should finish before the next challengers appeared.
He was still mapping the optimal route when Ciel reappeared in a flurry of wings.
“I’m back!”
“Anything unusual?”
She nodded, eyes bright with excitement.
“Yes! Light beams sweep the inner corridor at regular intervals.”
“Motion sensors.”
“That’s what I thought! Oh, and there’s a section where the wall juts out a little. A faint breeze was coming from it.”
“Could be a gas trap.”
The Company clearly did not rely on mana technology alone for security. Believing that Overflow had eliminated every danger would have been a fatal mistake.
“Good work.”
Do-yun patted her head with genuine appreciation. Absolute Sight would have revealed the hazards eventually, yet knowing about them in advance was worlds different from stumbling into them blind.
“What’s that booklet you’re carrying?”
“I found it at the end of the corridor! It looked important so I brought it.”
Beaming with pride, Ciel held out a compact volume. Compact for a human, perhaps; against her tiny frame it was large enough to hide half her torso. A single bead of sweat rolled down her forehead from the effort of hauling it.
Do-yun flipped open the first page and immediately understood why she had thought it mattered.
Welcome to the Company.
Guided by our mission—Technology for Humanity, Power for the Future—we greet you in a comfortable work environment.
However, due to the nature of our security, your personal safety is entirely your own responsibility.
Please commit the following basic rules to memory without fail.
1. When walking the corridors, never step on even-numbered tiles.
Those tiles are linked to emergency-response systems. In the event of an emergency, anyone standing on them will immediately undergo the Purification Protocol.
2. If air issues from a ventilation duct, remain calm and take slow breaths.
Due to the nature of our experimental equipment, residual test gases may linger in certain zones. The phenomenon is temporary; please stay where you are and wait.
3. Do not touch wall frames or displays.
They are not mere decorations but triggers linked to security systems.
4. Do not speak to or question internal robots and drones.
Security units possess no conversational functions. Unauthorized contact will be treated as a serious threat.
5. Should a mana reaction be detected within your body, proceed immediately to an isolation zone.
The Company classifies mana reactions as unstable elements and will enforce isolation regardless of the individual’s will. Noncompliance may result in penalties.
The above rules constitute the minimum measures required for the survival and order of all personnel.
Accidents arising from ignorance of these rules are solely the individual’s responsibility; no relief procedures will be provided.
Once again, we sincerely welcome you as a member of the Company.
“Hah.”
Do-yun stared down at the booklet, half-amused, half-appalled. What kind of company left its employees solely responsible for their own safety?
If he had been handed this handbook on his first day he would have thrown it on the floor and walked straight out the front door. The original owner, however, seemed to have thought otherwise; the edges of the pages were worn soft from repeated reading.
“Are you going to follow the rules?” Ciel asked, watching him closely. She was clearly curious how he would handle the situation.
“No reason not to,” Do-yun said, closing the booklet with a small nod. Relief washed over her face.
“That’s wise. From what I saw, this doesn’t look like a joke.”
Having scouted the corridor herself, she had already noticed how many of the written warnings matched the actual hazards.
“Where exactly did you find this?”
A document like this should have been classified, restricted to employees only, and guarded against outside eyes. How had Ciel gotten her hands on it?
“It was just lying on the floor?”
“On the floor?”
“Yes! I almost walked right past it, but when I looked inside it seemed super suspicious!”
Do-yun rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Dropped in a hurry while someone fled, perhaps?
I should at least check the spot where she found it.
Other traces or clues might still remain.
The corridor beyond the door stretched away in pristine white. Digital frames displaying technical schematics and equipment photographs lined the walls at regular intervals. The overall atmosphere was that of a clean, futuristic research facility—until one paid closer attention and realized every surface hid lethal traps.
“Ah! Watch out there!”
Ciel pointed. Do-yun’s gaze found a single tile that sat a fraction lower than its neighbors—easy to step on without noticing.
“If you step on that, the frame next to it looks like it explodes!”
Do-yun’s brows drew together in disbelief. The handbook had already struck him as absurd; seeing the reality made it worse.
They planted traps like this in an ordinary hallway?
This was a corridor employees walked every single day on their way to work. Intruders were one thing—far more likely a distracted employee would forget the rules and die.
Anyone who hasn’t memorized the rules is disposable, then.
He was beginning to grasp the Company’s philosophy. This place did not revolve around people. The system came first; individuals were secondary.
“What do they think human lives are worth…” he muttered, taking a single step forward.
A metallic clunk sounded beneath his foot. The floor sank. Do-yun looked down in blank confusion and saw the tile beneath him flashing a deep, angry red.
“This is an odd-numbered tile.”
He had taken exactly one step—the first tile inside the entrance. There was no way he had miscounted.
Scanning the corridor in growing indignation, he suddenly formed a new hypothesis.
Ciel said she found the notebook at the far end of the corridor.
The handbook warned against stepping on even-numbered tiles, yet never specified where the numbering began. Do-yun had naturally assumed the entrance was the starting point. But if the numbering started from the place where Ciel had found the booklet…
Then the tile under his foot could very well be even.
Not just a possibility—it’s already proven.
The angry red light pulsing beneath him left no room for doubt.
“You cheap, underhanded—!”
Do-yun clenched his teeth just as the floor panels snapped open and a roaring column of flame erupted from the depths below.